Silver Millennium Part 3: The End of All Things
by Bruteaous
Summary: The end of the Silver Millennium finally comes. You know what happens, but how and why? Read this compelling account of the fall of the Silver Millennium and find out! Fifth in the Silver Millennium Series.


**Silver Millennium Part 3: The End of All Things**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sailor Moon or its characters, but I do own all of the planetary monarchs except for Serenity and her senshi of course, and I own all of the knights and cultures represented here.

**Silver Millennium Series(in chronological order):**

1. Silver Millennium: the Prologue

2. Interlude: A Silver Millennium Snippet

3. Silver Millennium Part One: The Dominion of Knights

4. Silver Millennium Part two: Years of Silver Light

5. Silver Millennium Part Three: The End of All Things

**Chapter 1: Vigilluminatus**

_**Queen Selene Serenity I's Reign 3000**_

_**Vigilluminatus, Elis: The High Kingdom on Earth**_

King Aitolos sat on the back of his white horse watching the early morning breeze blow through the rocky landscape around him. It was a hardhearted terrain, one on which seeds fell, but few alone prospered. Shepherds roamed this places with their flocks of sheep and goats, but there were few in sight this morning. Most were still asleep her surmised. It was early, not yet dawn and the orange glow was just beginning to ripen the deep azure left of the latter night. The stars disappeared behind the encroaching golden glow, as it bathed the valley only slightly against the dim of the early day.

He did not, in all truth, know what he was doing out here. The king had been sleeping soundly until only moments ago, when he had felt a feeling, a nostalgic yearning for this place. This valley had been the site for many a great happening over the centuries. Long ago, even before his great grandfather had drawn his first breath, a battle had taken place here. He did not know the full details of it, as no from that time had really bothered to record it in detail, but he knew what had transpired here. Legions of the moon and its allies had gathered here intent on defeating those on Earth who posed a threat to their queen's rule, to punish those whose hearts were full of dissent and hatred. The king of Elis at that time, Vigilluminatus IV, too had gathered an army on this plain. He had arrived just as the battle began and skillfully negotiated for peace between the two sides.

Vigilluminatus IV was a dexterous diplomat and practiced warrior, the wisest of all High Kings to rule Elysion and the progenitor to Aitolos's bloodline. His reign had been long and fair, the longest of all Earthen kings. There was a monument dedicated to him in the capitol city's main square. Indeed, there was no man more revered or aspired to than he. Aitolos pulled his eyes away from the growing light on the horizon and gazed down at his hand. There laid a ring gleaming somberly in the infant rays of light. It too had been worn by Vigilluminatus IV and every other king in his family. It was an heirloom which signified great power to preside over both the land and the hearts of the people. Not one Elysion king had defied that tradition yet and he would not be the first to go against. Still, an ill feeling pursued him, one which he could not shake free.

The sound of approaching hoof beats broke him out of his thoughtful stupor and he turned his horse enough to see one of his palace guards cantering towards him on one of the dapple grey geldings belonging to the guard's stables. The solemn man reigned up in front of him and saluting before rattling off the message he had been sent to give.

"High King, you're wife is in labor with your child." The young man, scrawny and no more than seventeen, announced between feeble gasps for breath. "The healers are with her, your sister sent me, sire. She sends word that you are to return as soon as possible to the palace."

Aitolos nodded and the guard started off at a gallop towards the city walls. Alone again, the king allowed himself a nervous sigh once the young man was out of sight and out of ear shot. It did not matter who it was, it matter who he looked to be and the High King of Elis could not be caught in a moment of weakness. Even after generations of rule, Aitolos was not so naïve to believe that his family's position on the throne was still not a precarious one to hold. He needed children to secure his reign. He already had one son, Epieus, who he would raise to succeed him, but one son was not enough for children could take ill very quickly and die, what then would become of this kingdom his ancestors slaved to build from a nation of nothing but ignorant farmers and goat herders? He had a daughter and though her loved her, what good would she do him if she could not rule his kingdom?

He leaned his head back, to rest it against his shoulders for one brief moment and for all the grace, fortitude, and bravery the good king possessed, he could not bring himself to be brazen before fate this day. In silence, he prayed to all the gods in the world or even all the higher powers which existed to beseech him a second son. He wished for a reply, but as per usual only hopeless quiet evaded the night.

Relenting, that he would hear no more from the supreme beings tonight, he turned his horse and broke him into a stern gallop towards the city of Elysion and the pinnacle of hope and power shining from the Earth to pay testimony to the eight powers beyond its reach.

--

When the king arrived, he was met by his steward and informed that the queen and his child were in dire straights. The child was strong, he had been told by his healers, and did not want to be born to greet the world just yet and his wife was struggling valiantly to the best of her conviction to convince the infant of the contrary. And so the High King of the divine kingdom of Elis, the Godly king, the supreme ruler, had been left to pace in the plain wooden corridor outside the healer's apartments.

Oh, irony, how thou art loved…

One hour passed, then two, then three and still there was no word on the queen or of the child. Was it well? Had it survived? Had the queen survived? Would she be able to bear any more children? What would become of his dynasty or of his family's legacy if his wife could bear him no more children? There was always the possibility that the king could marry again, but his wife was a noble woman, one of the few he had had the privilege to know in his lifetime, a woman who truly fashioned herself a queen and Aitolos would not be the first to discard the one true wife he would ever call his own. The most honored and refined woman in his court.

He would not, could not bring himself to that. He would simply have to find another way to reinforce his family's claim. There was always another way. As he turned to begin a new line of pacing, one his healers emerged from the apartment doors, his brow beaded with sweat and eyes just a tad bloodshot.

"Well?" Aitolos questioned, the tone of his voice a little gruffer than he had at first intended.

The healer wore a tired smile, "A son."

"And the queen?"

"The queen is exhausted, but she will live. She's resting now."

"May I see my son?" The king asked, so anxious was he that it was easy for the bystander to forget that he had gone through this experience with two previous children.

"You are the king of Elis." The healer bowed and held the door he had come out of open for the king to enter by.

Once he was inside, before his eyes had adjusted to the light of the room even, he was presented with a squealing, red wrinkled creature squealing in high pitched wails and wrapped in white swaddling clothes. The small boy's cries were punctuated with the movements of his hands and fingers as the tiny infant still reconciled himself to being dragged out into this strange new world. Cradling the son he had prayed for in his arms, the High King found it hard to maintain his stately composure. For the first time in two years his eyes stung with a happy vigor instilled by life and love and happiness. He had been blessed, the gods had given him the heir apparent he had so desired to cement his family's legacy. What more could he have asked for?

Unbeknownst to him, his sister was shuffling down the hall at a quick stylistic run, hoping against the very idea of hope that her sister-in-law had not already given birth and that she would not be too late. However, when Princess Magia arrived in the ward for the palace healers, the sight which greeted her was less than reassuring. Her eldest brother was coddling a newborn infant in his arms, softly cooing to the child as it's frustrated cries waned down to quiet mewings.

She had been too late, the scion of Earth's destruction had been born onto them and she had failed in her duty as royal seerer. She had foreseen, but had not prevented. In her heart she knew, watching her brother fawn over the foil for his wise reign, that the end for them all was upon them and she was not so sure she would be able to redirect the inevitable, but it was her duty to try.

--

"You must kill him, my king." Magia begged as she hugged her cloak tighter to herself and began shuddering as if from some severe cold, "Or your kingdom will perish in fire and your people will be plunged into an age of darkness."

"Woman are you mad?!" Aitolos roared as he stood up abruptly, towering over the feeble frame of his sister. "He is my son, what gives you the authority to-"

"You yourself did, my king." Magia interrupted bowing her head and then straightening up again, "You gave me the order, sire, to assert any predictions that threatened your kingdom. For this you now shoot me down?"

"But Endymion -"

"Will bring about the death of us all!" Magia screeched, but then softened as she gauged the hurt expression on her brother's face. "Listen to me brother. If young Endymion lives he will bring about the destruction of us all. What is it that you care about more? Your people or your infant son? Besides, you will go on to have other children. Another son."

"You are sure?" Aitolos asked as his sister gently held his arm in a comforting gesture. "I will have other children, another son?"

"Yes." Magia replied without hesitation.

Aitolos pulled away from her grasp and turned to the large open corridor, from which he could look out over his whole kingdom and watched as his civilians moved about their daily lives. _How lucky they were. Life is always simpler for a peasant._

"You are asking me to betray my wife's trust. To go against the love of my beloved and life mate. How can I follow you on this path?" The High king asked finally turning back towards his sister, blue eyes blazing. "How do you propose I do that?"

"Ask a servant to remove the babe from his bassinet while the queen is asleep. Tell him to take him to the farthest valley and leave him there. Then when the queen wakes tell her that the babe died in his sleep. Tell her that his lungs were still lined with the birthing fluid and that he suffocated." Magia explained. "Please brother, it is the only way. Lillia must not know about the prediction. She would not understand."

Aitolos looked away and when he finally did reply his voice was not as steady as it had been before. "For the sake of this kingdom…I…I will make that sacrifice."

Nodding solemnly, Magia grabbed the sleeve of a passing servant. "Duran, the king has need of your services."

The hazel eyed servant turned back towards the princess and bowed his head obediently, "Yes milady."

As Magia explained his duties to the servant, Aitolos held his hand up to his face. It was worn and slightly scarred from years of battle to expand his lands. On his index finger rested his family ring, a sacred heirloom that had been passed down from generation to generation since is family's first ruler: High King Vigilluminatus I. It was solid gold and inlaid into the top was a polished stone which appeared red from a distance, but when seen up close, shown as if there were shards of sun gleaming at its center. It had been a rare find. A wedding gift to the first high king from his new in-laws. Since then, the beautiful antique had served as a symbol of the high king's right to rule over his kingdom and to hold dominion over the four lesser kings within the borders of Elis.

Aitolos remembered now the day his father had given this ring to him, a privilege always reserved for the first son born to the head of their house. A gift that had been recorded in time the day he had been crowned high king. Never had it slipped from his finger. Never, until now. Aitolos took deep breath, easing the painful tenseness from his chest.

Slowly the golden ring fell, hitting the dark marble floor with a clang as it bounced about the hard surface, finally rolling to a stop in the corridor's dark corner. Never, had this ever before happened, until now.

--

Duran walked solemnly, not wishing to be responsible for completing this dastardly deed any sooner than he had to. In his arms he cradled a bundle tightly wrapped in gold silk. Coming to his destination, Duran chanced a guilty look to the child that he held. It was an infant boy with eyes as bright as sapphires and a light feather dusting of dark hair covering his small head as he cooed to his carrier. Duran frowned as he set the tiny child down on a flat stone, the child's pristine eyes watched him intently. He swallowed hard, his throat feeling the texture of sandpaper as he reached inside his cloak, removing the small wooden sheath and its hidden dagger.

The leaf shaped knife sang melodically against the wooden interior as if was roughly pulled free of its restraints. Sweat beaded the servant's brow as he raised the small weapon above his head and leveled it evenly above the child. Duran felt his muscles brace themselves for the attack. Then, as if on cue, the tiny prince wrinkled up his nose and closed his eyes as small mews began to issue from his toothless mouth.

Duran froze as the infant began to wail in famished fury. Breaking free from his surprised daze, the servant relinquished his grip on the hovering blade, allowing it to fall to the ground beside him as he collapsed to his knees on the rocks.

"I…I cannot do it." Duran whispered as he lifted his hands to eye level. "I…I would rather turn this blade on myself than hurt this infant."

He could not do it. Hard as Duran tried, he just could not bring himself to do it. Shakily, he moved to his feet and took a few retreating steps backward. If this child was truly to be killed, could not the elements finish the job instead of himself? Surely, the higher powers would not begrudge him that small clemency.

Slowly, as the child cried, Duran retreated back the way he had come. Alone on the cold cliff rocks and left to the mercy of the elements, baby Endymion wailed unheralded by all the forces of the world. The real darkness and hopeless of night set in and the chill of the evening became more pronounced, more of a threat to the tiny bundle.

Out of the darkness, a man wrapped smugly in sheep skins approached the infant prince and picked him up, cradling him like a precious treasure in his steady arms.

What would a child so small be doing left out to the leniency of the cold and the weather on such a night as this? Who could be so cruel? Never mind, the child would be cared for, Castor would see to that. He may have only been a poor goat herder from an obscure mountain village, but he would not leave this child out here to die.

No, the young prince would be loved and cared for in the kindest, fullest sense of the word. The ill-fated prince had been born and his destiny not thwarted, only redirected. The end of all things was very, very near.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thank you all for reading this fine piece. Many have thought that I have abandoned my Silver Millennium pieces, but I have merely been taking my time with them. Damn the epics! They do take so long to finish! Hope you all enjoyed the start of the beginning of the end for the Silver Millennium. Leave a review for me, tell me what you think of it, whether I should continue it or not, whether it's a complete waste of time, I care about what you, the reader think so don't be afraid to share your thoughts. Thanks!


End file.
